Fragile
by honeybutter
Summary: "Friendships are fragile things, and require as much handling as any other fragile and precious thing." A high school fic featuring Sector V and Co. Rated T because teenagers swear and so do I.
1. Chapter 1

"Friendships are fragile things, and require as much handling as any other fragile and precious thing."

Randolph Bourne

* * *

Student Council Chambers

Monday, September 26th

7:39AM

"—and another thing! We need to begin planning the annual Fall Festival. Principal Gillan has it scheduled for October 30th, so we have a little over a month to pull this thing up by the boot straps and orchestrate the best festival this county's ever _seen._ As you all know each class is expected to host a booth—"

With a click of her black pen, Rachel McKenzie furiously jotted down the itinerary in her notes as the McClintock Student Government President James "Jimmy" Nixon McGarfield laid out their future plans for the upcoming fall semester. School had started a mere two weeks ago, but Rachel's new planner was already streaked with vibrant highlighters and bursting with sticky tabs that dutifully kept the busy junior on top of everything. Being Rachel McKenzie wasn't easy and as she squeezed ' _Fall Festival Brainstorm'_ into an open space under her reminder to buy a TI-84 calculator for her AP Statistics class, she took a few seconds to look at her schedule today.

 _Student Gov. Meeting 7:15AM_.

 _Student Tour 8, be there 7:50AM_

 _Turn in Honors Society Application_

 _Cross Country Practice 3:30PM_

 _Study for reading quiz Wednesday_

With a yawn, Rachel crossed the first task off the list. Since stepping onto campus freshman year, she has been an active leader in McClintock's student government. From Homecoming Float Leader to hosting pep rallies, Rachel has had her hand in just about every aspect of the student council. People always praised Rachel for her amazing school involvement, but as a freshman she only joined Student Council because her mother stressed it would look great on college applications. Two years later, Rachel sat proudly as the elected junior class president and as much as she loved her position, she could do without the early morning meetings every Monday.

Scrunching her small nose in concentration, she went to flip her planner into next week when a loud buzz caused her heart to jump and nimble fingers to tear the edge of the page with a _rip._

Glancing sideways at the noise, she watched a red Android light up with a text notification and an annoying jingle. With a role of her eyes, she turned to look at the junior class vice president, and her good friend, Nigel Uno. As usual, his face was fixed in an intense stare as he typed away on his laptop to Jimmy's distinctive southern drawl.

Rachel had always admired Nigel's extreme drive, even if it bordered on excessive at times. The two council members had shared a class or two the first year, but it wasn't until they shared debate class sophomore year that Rachel was able to see the boy in his element. After singlehandedly captivating the entire classroom with his argument for early school dismissals and even managing to convince their teacher of his points, approaching Nigel and convincing him to join Student Council was a no brainer. She knew immediately that anyone who was able to hold 25 teenagers attention for a 7 minute speech and advocated for student rights would be a perfect fit for student council. As it worked out the two shared a lot of common beliefs and when student council elections were held that spring they won the president and vice president positions in a landslide.

Nigel's phone buzzed again, and as she instinctively turned to the noise she noticed two things. One, it was 7:45AM and she only had five minutes to race to the front office to lead her student tour, and two, it seemed Mr. Uno was talking to Lizzie Devine again.

Giving a shake of her butter blonde hair, Rachel sighed. It wasn't that she was opposed to the couple per say, she just didn't see how it could be classified a "relationship" when it seemed to mainly be a desperate Lizzie vying for Nigel's attention while he was constantly preoccupied with his "job".

After packing up her things and quietly sliding out of her seat, Rachel gave a wave to a still lecturing Jimmy and slipped out of the council room.

Girl's Bathroom

Monday, September 26th

7:45am

"You serious? _She's_ transferring _here?"_

A rougher than needed hip bump jolted Kuki Sanban from her dreamy daze and back into the 2nd floor girl's bathroom of McClinktock High. Giving a quick look to her right she saw the nudge had been from Henrietta Von Marzipan, a fellow teammate on the cheer squad and the high school's local siren. Now sharing the small mirror that hung on the tile wall, Kuki watched as Henrietta slipped a tube of baby pink lip gloss from her purse and began to meticulously apply it to her parted lips. Henrietta spared Kuki a quick glance and a smirk graced her face.

"I swvear Kuki, you can be such space case sometimes," Henrietta said with a somewhat menacing wink, her notorious accent clear as ever.

Kuki simply gave her a tight lipped smile and fished inside her makeup bag for her new mascara. After three years on the pep squad together, Kuki was no longer intimidated by Henrietta's scare tactics. Leaning into her reflection as she unscrewed the cap, she found herself being drawn into the gossiping cheerleaders around her.

"Yes! My older sister worked for her family's company and _she_ said that after the whole thing this summer they want her to have a 'fresh start'," a newly thin Lizzy Devine remarked from the mirror closest to the door, using her nimble fingers to make air quotes, "but _I_ think it's because they don't have the money for her rich bitch private school anymore." The glee in Lizzie's voice betrayed any attempt to seem uninterested as she examined her nails for any chipped polish.

"Well what do you expect? All the legal fees their paying has to be killing their trust funds," Muffy Jenkin's voiced as she examined her newly pierced belly button in the mirror next to Kuki. Her shirt was pulled high enough to show the lining of her lacy bra, but it's not like it mattered. It was common knowledge in McClintock that the 2nd floor girl's bathroom was a "cheerleader's only" area before school. No one but a few uninformed freshman girls were dumb enough to waltz through those doors.

"Wait, someone's transferring?" Kuki asked. Before being knocked back into the conversation by Henrietta, Kuki had been sleepily applying another coat of concealer to the deep bags under her eyes. Last night her "official-but-not-official-boyfriend" Ace had called and they spent the better part of the night whispering over the phone in hushed tones.

Lizzie rolled her eyes and for a brief moment Kuki wished they'd get stuck like that. "Duh! _Everyone's_ talking about it and—". Suddenly the door to the bathroom swung open and the girls all turned to look at the interruption. The once chattering bathroom was replaced by the echo of stiletto heels and before them stood Cheryl Woods, the unattested Queen Bee of the junior class.

"Good morning girls," her voice purred. Her long red hair fell around her like a copper halo and her mischievous smile only seemed to illuminate her striking features. The other three cheerleaders all chorused excited greetings at their captain and Kuki flashed her trademark toothy grin.

Cheryl sauntered over to where Kuki and Henrietta were sharing a mirror, and with another hip bump Kuki found herself squished between the two bombshells. Inspecting her already flawless reflection, Cheryl started to fluff her hair.

"So what are we talking about this morning, ladies?" the redhead asked, reaching into her bag to pull out her hairbrush.

Lizzie, always the devoted _Gretchen_ to Cheryl's _Regina George,_ began to recount her story about the new transfer student when Cheryl let a loud huff spurt from her lips that stopped the brunette cold.

"New girl? So what, we get new kids all the time."

"Yeah, but she's—"

"Irrelevant. _Next._ "

The other three girls watched with curious stares as Cheryl rolled her eyes in an exasperated show and Lizzie stumbled to redeem herself. A beat passed before Kuki turned to her captain.

"So Cher, how's Mr. Drilovsky?" Kuki couldn't hide her giggle as Cheryl faltered slightly brushing her hair and the other girls gasped. Muffy and Henrietta stopped what they were doing and waited for their captain to spill _everything._

"Well if you must know, Patton and I are on again, and no, it's not because he got hot at hockey camp this summer." _Though it certainly didn't hurt_ , Kuki thought, as Cheryl continued to gush.

All summer Kuki had filtered FaceTime calls and group texts about the relationship drama that was Cheryl Woods and Patton Drilovksy. The two were always breaking up and making up, never staying together for longer than a month or two tops. By high school standards, they should've been the King and Queen of McClintock, but unfortunately the two always seemed to crumble over petty arguments. More often than not the breakups dealt with Patton's title as one of McClintock's biggest flirts.

The cheerleaders were so wrapped up in their gossip that the shrill bell caused them all to squeal in surprise. With a quick goodbye the five girls parted and went to their first class.

Principal Gillan's Office

Monday, September 26th

7:55AM

Principal Gillan had brown eyes.

At least she thought he did, but it got harder to tell with each cup of coffee he drank. Tugging at the ends of a few stray curls, Fanny Fulbright quirked an eyebrow as she watched Principal Gillan sip his second morning coffee, the steam fogging his horn rimmed glasses each time he brought the mug to his thin lips. She watched the man's Adam's apple bob with each gulp and Fanny tried to convince herself that, _that_ was the reason she felt so uneasy.

It would be easy to say the anxious feeling festering in her stomach had sprouted last night out of genuine first day nerves, or even this morning when she, her mother, and Principal Gillan sat in his office sorting through her academic record before Mrs. Fulbright scurried away to take her sons to their new respective schools. She could even lie and blame bad sushi for her jitters.

That would be complete bullshit though, and although she hadn't been super familiar with it before this summer, Fanny liked the idea of being honest above all else. If she were to be honest with herself, a concept she was still getting used to, it started long before she had shakily agreed that McClintock High School was her best option (her only option, really) of shedding everything attached to the Fulbright name.

Growing up Fanny would have never tried to hide her lineage. She used to take such pride in being a Fulbright but now—

Fanny inhaled an angry quivering breath. Now was not the time to get carried away. Besides she wasn't _that girl_ anymore. She watched Principal Gillan use his tie to "de-foggify" his glasses for the 6th time before slipping them back onto his pointed nose and turning to look at her.

His eyes were hazel. Maybe.

"Your records show a good academic presence and solid involvement. I don't believe you'll have any problems adjusting to your new class schedule, despite starting two weeks after the official first day. Now, it says here you played soccer at your last school. You know we have a pretty decent team here you could try out for."

"Thanks Principal Gillan, but I don't really play anymore."

"Oh? Now, we may not be the 'The Baxter School Wolverines', but we 'McClintock Lions' have our own well rounded athletic department. In fact, our girls' team made the district semifinals last year," Principal Gillan assured proudly. Fanny's freckled cheeks involuntarily went red with embarrassment. He thought she rejected their team because they weren't as good as her old one.

"No! I'm sure those—, uh, _we_ Lions are great at soccer. I just don't really have time to focus on that because of everything..." Fanny trailed off and a pregnant pause consumed the room for a moment.

His eyes suddenly melted from his proud stare to a look that Fanny had come to know as pity. It's funny, her father used to preach how the Fulbright's were a strong people and didn't need pity from anyone over anything. That was when her father was still able to preach and she still had the luxury of believing whatever silly mottos her father taught her.

She braced herself for whatever cliché line Principal Gillan was about to feed her, no matter how unnecessary Fanny found it. He knows why she was here, why she can'tgo back to The Baxter School, why McClintock is her last 'hail Mary play' at making it out of Cleveland in one piece, and why she of all people, was probably very tired of hearing the same token phrases she can't seem to escape. He seemed ready to go into his speech when a knock at his door startled him. Fanny could practically hear the unspoken " _I know this can be a difficult time"_ in the air.

The office door creaked open and a girl about her age strode in. Principal Gillan's face instantly brightened and he gestured for Fanny to stand up too.

"Good Morning Principal Gillan! Sorry I'm late, I got caught up in the Student Council meeting."

"Don't worry Ms. McKenzie. Rachel, this is Fanny Fulbright. Fanny, this is your student tour guide Rachel McKenzie. She's in your grade and will help you settle in. Now you two should get going, class is about to start any minute," and as if on cue the bell rang across the school's PA system.

"Don't worry Principal Gillan, I'll make sure we get everything sorted," Rachel asserted, confidence evident in her voice.

"I never do with you Ms. McKenzie. Good luck girls!" With a final wave from Rachel, Fanny and Rachel set out into the bustling hallway.

XXX

The hallways had eventually gone empty as students went to their first period classes, leaving only Rachel and Fanny to explore the school grounds. Fanny's Doc Marten boots stomped as she walked in step with Rachel, the blonde easily navigating the large building.

"So I usually like to start my tours with a few fun facts about McClintock," Rachel began, already prepared to go into full tour guide mode. "The school was founded in 1925 and was originally —

"Not meant to stand this long," Fanny snickered, letting her fingers trace a row of metal lockers they were walking by.

Rachel faltered at Fanny's comment, but recovered quickly and let out an unsure giggle as she eyed the dented lockers.

"True, the school board would rather spring for new cheerleading uniforms and new grass for the football field than locker sets. Oh! Over there is our trophy case. We have a pretty good football team here and last year they almost won states but we lost to—"

"Us," Fanny replied automatically and just as fast berated herself. She wasn't considered a Baxter School Wolverine anymore. "But at least you guys have cute uniforms."

"True again," Rachel agreed nodding hesitantly. "Well our mascot is obviously a Lion and he's named—"

"Don't tell me it's something corny like Lester or Leon."

"Are you going to interrupt every sentence I say?" Rachel asked in slight annoyance. The new kids Rachel tended to were usually too nervous to say much, and given the circumstances Rachel assumed Fanny would be much the same. Apparently this girl had an answer for everything. "I'll have you know _Lawrence_ is a symbol of our school pride and represents McClintock's can do, hard fought spirit! We even have students dress up in a lion suit and run out with the team at every football game."

Fanny blinked. "Ay, thank God you have cute uniforms."

Rachel, whose face was twisted in frustration, suddenly burst out laughing. "Geez, it's like you have no filter whatsoever."

"'Course, it's one of my better qualities," Fanny joked. Which, on a list of things she considered "good qualities", her quick attitude always seemed to rank near the top. "I'm trying to work on it though." Fanny Fulbright may not be _that girl_ anymore, but she still had a tongue sharper than a butcher's knife and learning to control it was a whole other situation.

"Don't. It's…refreshing," Rachel said, surprised by the sincerity in her own voice. When it came to her school duties she ran tight ship, and she often worried people were simply telling her what she wanted to hear rather then what she needed to hear. She could already tell this new girl would do none of that. "Let me see your schedule."

Fanny shuffled through her backpack for a few seconds before handing Rachel a slightly crumpled piece of paper. The two leaned forward slightly as they read over her classes.

"Ah, you have Algebra 2 first period. That's in the math hallway right over there." Doing as she was told, Fanny followed Rachel to her first period classroom. "And you have 4th period lunch. I'm guessing you don't have anywhere to sit today?" Fanny let out a groan. With all the chaos this morning she didn't even think about what she'd do during lunch. If McClintock was anything like Baxter, where she sat would pretty much define her socially.

"No worries, meet me at my locker before lunch and we'll walk together." Rachel watched Fanny's face fall into what she could only call relief as she nodded a thanks.

"So, Rachel was it? What're the kids like here?" Rachel read right through Fanny's seemingly harmless question for what she really wanted know. _Are any of these kids gonna give me shit here?_ Rachel didn't know much about this Fanny Fulbright other than the different rumors she'd heard the last few months, but she was pretty sure a girl like Fanny wouldn't let anyone give her shit for anything.

"Nah, most of the kids here are harmless. I doubt you'll have any trouble." It wasn't often Rachel was wrong, but as they turned the corner towards the classroom something boney slammed into them and sent them sprawling onto the hard floor. It took a second for Rachel to figure out the scene in front of her, but glancing at the pair of goggles that had landed near her head she knew exactly _who_ they collided with.

"What in the—what's your problem ya stupid boy!" Fanny was a mess of curses and shouts next to her while the lanky figure quickly jumped to his feet, grabbed his goggles, and began helping them pick up their fallen bags.

"I'm pretty sure you just gave me whiplash, Gilligan." Rachel tentatively rolled her shoulders, inspecting for any bruises.

"Sorry Rach! I accidentally got caught in Jock Block and I do _not_ need to tell you how messy that can get." Hoagie P. Gilligan shuddered, pulling his infamous aviator goggles overhead and letting them fall around his neck. "Only two weeks into the school year and you'd think those guys would give us a bit more leeway."

"You know running only provokes them."

"That's no hard to do when they're pumped full of steroids and protein shakes. Kidding! Sort of, anyway." Hoagie raised his hands in surrender when Rachel sent him a pointed glare.

Fanny continued to sputter as Rachel helped her off the ground. _"What the hell was that?"_ Rachel watched Hoagie notice Fanny for the first time and rolled her eyes when he started to look over the scowling girl. "Well _hello there_."

"Not now Hoagie—"

"YOU'RE DEAD MEAT GILLIGAN!" The three whipped around to see a boy turn the corner and begin charging at them. Hoagie was already sprinting away when he called out:

"Bye Rachel! Bye Red! Gotta go!"

The girls jumped out of the way as the boy chased after Hoagie. Rachel sighed while Fanny shouted after Hoagie, _my name's not Red, ya idiot._

"Any _other_ of these kids gonna give me trouble?"

"You? Please, they couldn't handle it. _I_ can barely handle it." Fanny's curls whipped as she spun around to face Rachel, a verbal lashing sitting on the tip of her tongue, but stopped when she noticed the blonde girl's wide smirk. The girls snickered all the way to Fanny's first period.

Gymnasium

Monday, September 26th

8:14 AM

Hoagie P. Gilligan Jr. was, without a doubt, a smart boy.

Over the years his family's fridge slowly morphed from a stainless steel block to a small shrine of all his academic achievements. Small alphabet magnets hung perfect report cards and aced AP Chemistry tests for all hungry persons to see, and if his PSAT scores were any indication he was on track for a very bright future. That is, if he can live long enough to see it.

Unfortunately, even unofficial geniuses like himself have the occasional lapse in judgement and as Hoagie burst through the doors of McClintock's gymnasium he really wished he'd stayed in Spanish class. When he stepped off the school bus this morning Hoagie had no intention of being anywhere near the dreaded Jock Block, a hallway on the first floor where all the popular athletes' lockers were located, and he certainly didn't think he'd be running for his life at 8:14 in the morning. Not that running from bullies was unusual for him. In fact, it happened so often he'd bet his major weight loss from his younger days was solely due to outrunning bullies rather than the health kick his mother imposed a few years back.

Weaving in-between the kids in gym class, and just narrowly missing a basketball to the face, Hoagie paled with realization that he was virtually cornered. Cursing, he weighed his options. He could:

A. Hope his attacker would get tired and/or bored and stop…eventually

B. Take the beating like the (sort of) man he is

Or C. Hide in the one place Hoagie hated more than the gym itself.

From behind he heard a familiar angry growl and his stomach sank. Clearly, the athletic conditioning the boy did five days a week was paying off so Option A was a no go.

"GILLIGAN!"

And from the way his voice shook the air Hoagie was pretty sure he had a concussion with his name on it, if he was lucky. Definitely not Option B.

Gulping, Hoagie rushed forward. He had no choice. Bracing himself for a place more horrifying than Saturday detention and a smell more putrid than mystery meat Monday, he reached out his hands in time to push through a small door at the back of the gym.

On the other side stood the pinnacle of high school masculinity, testosterone, and many "that's what she said jokes". Where the men were separated from the boys and the jocks waltz about like lazy kings and the nerds shrunk into the background: the boys locker room.

Jumping over benches and loose athletic gear, Hoagie saw salvation in the form of a single door that lead straight to the football field. If he was lucky, he'd make a run for under the bleachers and hide out until his attacker tired himself out looking for him.

Gagging when he accidentally inhaled the sweaty aroma, Hoagie reached for his door to freedom, but felt the goggles around his neck snap back and send his flying to the floor. Small white stars erupted in front of his eyes, but as the haze cleared away a shadow cast over him. Welp, he lived a good life.

"Oh _, hey_ there Wallabee! Was that you calling my name? Is there something I can, uh, help you with this lovely morning…buddy?"

Standing at a surprising 5'7" was the unflinchingly strong, notoriously short, and notoriously _short tempered_ Wallabaee Beetles.

"Ay mate, let's have a chat yeah?" The question itself was fair, but it was the quiet malice in the Aussie's smile that made him squirm.

"Oh you know I just positively _love_ our talks Wallabee, you know I do, but Ms. Fernanda is expecting me back in Spanish class—," Wally's hand reach out and hauled Hoagie up by the collar of his light blue, button down shirt.

" _The name's Wally_ and you've got a lotta' nerve."

"Now Wally you know I was just kidding! I jest!"

"I'm sure."

"You know how it is! Just jokes among friends!"

"Funny, I wasn't laughing."

"Heh, must have gone _over your head!"_ Hoagie cracked, refusing to miss a prime opportunity to make a joke. Wally seethed and tightened his grip on Hoagie's shirt. Wally Beetles was definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knew a short joke when he heard one. Hoagie decided after taking AP Psychology last year that Wally had what the "experts" (i.e. himself and a few fellow nerds) called a "complex."

"Well aren't you a bloody comedian?"

"Since I'm not _bleeding_ yet, I'd say not."

"You got a death wish Gilligan?"

"C'mon Wally! Everyone appreciates a good joke now and then, where's your sense of humor?"

"Oi! _You're right_ ," Wally drawled with exaggerated sarcasm, "was I supposed to laugh before you called me a dumb marsupial or after you said I'm the size of a literal Wallaby?

Hoagie flinched. To be fair, he didn't know Wally was standing right around the corner when he skipped class to meet his old friend Joe Balooka by the first floor stair case, a meeting place that on second thought was _dangerously_ close to Jock Block. If anyone asked, Hoagie was meeting Joe to pick a few small mechanical parts that were hard to come by. In actuality, he was meeting Joe to pick up a rare, limited edition Yipper Card that was worth at least 50 cool points when he'd go to game night at Herbert's this weekend. He and Joe went way back, further back than most of the kids he considered his friends now did. Even though they're relationship fell through during grade school, the two were friendly and shared a mutual respect for each other. Joe had become a middle man of sorts, and Hoagie relied on Joe for the various pieces he needed for his robotics and paraphernalia for his nerd fandoms.

After slipping Joe the rolled up money in exchange for the card, the two had mingled around to catch up briefly. That's when his trouble began. Joe _might've_ said that Hoagie's bold for standing so close to Jock Block and Hoagie _might've_ made a few jokes at the expense of a few jocks in particular and one of the said jocks _might've_ heard it all and decided Hoagie wasn't nearly as funny as he thought he was. He _might've_ further provoked said jock by running away and leading him on a campus wide chase. He _might've_ even accidently (and quite literally) ran into junior class Prez Rachel McKenzie and a pretty red-headed girl he'd never seen before.

Did he have a death wish? Apparently so. Hoagie, for all his intelligence, could never seem to control his stupid mouth. Rearing one hand back, Wally prepared to send his fist flying into Hoagie's face when he began to ramble.

"Go ahead! Hit me, but Coach Sherwood is in his office _right over there_ and you'll get suspended for fighting again." Hoagie inhaled sharply. He was officially shit out of luck and hoped this would get the volatile boy to reconsider. It was no secret around school that Wally had a nasty habit of using his fists rather than his words and had gotten in trouble more than once for brawling. Some people swear he always throws the first punch, no matter what. Wally paused for a moment, and briefly Hoagie prayed his play at mercy worked. Suddenly a wide, saber toothed grin broke onto Wally's face and Hoagie's heart stopped.

"Coach Sherwood's in Cincinnati for a coaching conference until Thursday." Hoagie was a dead man.

"Who's the dumb marsupial now, _buddy_?"

Cafeteria

Monday, September 26th

12:11PM

Everyone knew high school was like a game of chess. Just as the checkered board had designated spots for its kings and queens, knights and pawns, so did the McClintock cafeteria.

"So, what's the social scene here like?" Fanny asked, eyeing the two teens sitting across from her. Doing as Rachel said, when the lunch bell rang Fanny waited for Rachel at her locker and the two walked to the lunchroom together. Currently, the two girls were seated at a table with some a Rachel's friends. The first of whom she met was Nigel, a polite boy with a buzz cut so severe he looked near bald, and then Abby, a relaxed girl with long hair falling from underneath her snug, red baseball cap.

"You know, the usual. We have over 40 academic clubs you can join and all standard sports teams."

"Aw, enough with the tour guide spiel. What's the social scene here _really_ like?"

Reaching for her carton of chocolate milk, Rachel considered the question. As one of the school's student officials it was in her job description to be fairly unbiased when it came to social politics. Although she didn't pay too much attention to them, she knew she unintentionally had been categorized and labeled into the student council, "goody-goody" role.

"Well, I guess it's like any other high school."

Abby's melodic laugh sounded from across the table. "That's not what she's asking, Rach. Let Abby handle this one." Abigail "Abby" Lincoln was, and always has been, an enigma of sorts. Liked by all, Abby had the ability to float between cliques with a few smart quips and serene smiles. If anyone was able to break down the pecking order it was undoubtedly Abby.

"By the way, have you started thinking about possible themes for our class booth?" Nigel asked, turning to Rachel. Immediately the two began discussing ideas as Abby turned to Fanny.

"See, over there you have your band geeks, theater kids, mathletes…" Fanny's blue eyes skimmed the cafeteria as Abby listed all the various. Even without Abby pointing to each table, it was easy to tell who was who.

"…and next to the trash cans is generally where the nerdier crowd hangs around," Fanny recognized the klutzy boy who'd basically assaulted her and Rachel this morning. He was holding court at his table, seemingly sharing a funny story as his friends listened intently. She hadn't gotten a great look at him earlier, but he looked different. Did he always have a black eye?

A booming laugh rang across the cafeteria and caused everyone to turn towards a table near the middle.

"…and of course you have the preppy jock crowd." Fanny vaguely recognized the small blonde boy that had been chasing "Hoagie" earlier, and he was surrounded by equally strong boys, all clad in various Letterman jackets. He was in the middle of a conversation, adamantly making grand gestures as a boy with dark, obsidian hair and an easy smile laughed at his antics. From around them the other boys interjected with goading questions and teasing remarks. A few girls in stylish tops and short skirts sat among them and Fanny decided they must be the head cheerleaders of the school. The girls seemed entranced in their own conversation, giggling to themselves and typing away on their iPhones. She sighed, glancing at them another second. She knew what kind of girls they were: pretty, unapproachable, and probably more than a bit mean when the time called for it. She knew because back at Baxter she was just like them.

Fanny was about to turn back around when she noticed one of the girls staring in her direction, specifically, at Nigel's unobservant head.

"I think you've got an admirer, Nigel," Fanny teased. Rachel and Nigel stopped their brainstorming and looked puzzled until they noticed the staring girl too.

"That's just Lizzie," Rachel answered, a tinge of annoyance in her voice not unnoticed by Abby or Fanny. Nigel, meanwhile, seemed slightly embarrassed and his cheeks hued red.

"Ah yes, she's probably wondering why I didn't answer her text messages this morning." Both Abby and Rachel sprang into action, the former razzing Nigel and the latter asking how the "relationship" was going.

Slowly picking up her ham & cheese sandwich, Fanny watched the three playfully bicker and for the first time in a long while the queasy feeling in her stomach subsided a bit. Her first day at a new school, starting two weeks after everyone else mind you, had not been a complete disaster much to her delight. The kids she'd met seemed relatively nice and not once had anyone mentioned anything from this past summer. Perhaps the switch to McClintock hadn't been a misguided, desperate attempt at normalcy after all. Maybe things just might work out

She sent a wish to whoever was listening that the rest of her days at McClintock be uneventful, ordinary even, and took a sip of her apple juice to seal the deal.

Unfortunately, you don't always get what you wish for.

XXX

A/N: it's honestly been forever since I've written anything fiction related, but seeing as its summer and I want a side project here goes nothing. I've always wondered how Sector V and Co would turn out once decommissioned from the KND, so I figured I'd take a swing at it. I kind of wrote it more for myself then anything, and hopefully I'll be able to make this into a decent story (even though it's probs not super original).

Also, Cheryl Woods is the name I gave to Numbuh 10 for the purpose of this story. I'm trying to use as many canon characters as possible without including OCs. Mostly canon pairings too with a few extras thrown in.

Xoxo!


	2. Chapter 2

The Uno Home

Wednesday, September 28th

7:41AM

Resisting the urge to check his Fossil watch again, Nigel Uno placed his favorite dark sunglasses over his coffee brown eyes and sat impatiently on his front stoop. Overhead Nigel could feel the early morning sun began to prickle his neck and grimaced, his fingers touching his nose gingerly. The smooth expanse that now stretched over his slightly crooked nose was just a few weeks ago littered with peeling skin and colored an angry sunburnt red.

Back in August, his parents had all but dragged him (although there was a bit of that, too) from the familiar confines of his family's basement turned Study and into an overcrowded minivan with his Uncle Oliver, Aunt Edith and Cousin Cheryl. Since reuniting with her estranged brother all those years ago, Nigel's mother has orchestrated annual summer trips between the two families much to the chagrin of the two teenagers stuffed awkwardly among the piles of luggage. These trips had undoubtedly become the most tedious part of Nigel's summers and truth be told he was simply too busy with his various duties to "take a freaking chill pill" as Cheryl so eloquently put it. He would've rather been at the Cleveland High School Leadership Conference with the rest of McClintock's Student Council kids and although considerate, Rachel's play-by-play texts of the seminar were more irritating than helpful.

This year's "Uno-Woods Family Excursion" had been a weeklong trip to Lake Erie and just like every other year not even his SPF70 sunscreen could save him from the sun's harsh rays. His cousin teased him mercilessly for a week, announcing he looked like "Christmas in July" and that he should "check in with St. Nick to make sure he doesn't need anyone to steer his sled." The subtle humming of Christmas carols every time he walked into a room had certainly been an interesting touch.

Suddenly his jean pocket buzzed with a familiar, customized ring and he knew exactly who was calling him before he pressed the answer button.

 _Speak of the devil_

"You're late, Cher."

"Calm down _Buzz_ , I'm turning down your street now."

"I've told you before to stop calling me—," but Cheryl ended the call before Nigel could retort and the boy held back a barely stifled groan. "Buzz" as Cheryl sometimes liked to affectionately refer to him, was a crack at his history of nearly bald, always incredibly short haircuts he'd worn since he was a kid. He remembers in grade school after an accident with some neighbor kids that his parents can't seem to recall fully, he'd been quite literally hairless for several grades before beginning to sprout again in middle school.

Hearing the tinkling beats and synthetic chords of a familiar pop song wafting through the air, Nigel watched Cheryl speed down his street in her 2013 Mustang Convertible before whipping into his driveway and honking the horn.

"Get in loser, we're going shopping!" Already hoisting himself to his feet and walking to the passenger side, Nigel sighed as he slid into his seat.

"Just because Rachel McAdams said it one time in a movie, like, 13 years ago doesn't mean you can greet me that way every morning." Cheryl pointedly rolled her eyes as she eased her car into the street.

"One, that movie is an American classic, and two, when your "Ol' bean" Monty lets you drive yourself to school is the day I'll stop," she quipped, racing through his neighborhood.

"Maybe then I'd actually make it to school on time."

"And maybe then you'd have even less of a social life then you do now." Nigel halfheartedly shoved her shoulder and Cheryl retaliated by blowing a raspberry. Their parents often fretted over the constant jabs and (sometimes) playful remarks the two cousins flung indifferently at each other, but they loved like siblings and without a doubt fought like siblings _._

As the two cousins weaved down busy roads, Nigel could see the tall brick structure that was McClintock High begin to show. Suddenly the Convertible jerked left and sent Nigel's face flying against the hard glass window.

" _Ow!_ Where on earth are you going? First bell's in 12 minutes."

"We have to pick up Kuki real quick."

"Cheryl—"

"She literally lives two streets over! Plus her dad's car broke down so she needs a ride."

"I cannot be late for first period again!"

"You won't be!"

"If you knew we had to pick up Kuki _why_ were you running late in the first place?" Honestly, it was times like this that Nigel thought maybe Cheryl was as inconsiderate as people believe her to be.

At that, the sneer on her apple red lips turned to the familiar smug grin Nigel's grown so accustomed to seeing. She pulled her car to a slow stop in front of the Sanban home before honking her horn a few times.

"Sorry, Patton came by last night and you know how that goes."

Nigel gagged. "Um no, I don't and if I did I'm pretty sure I'd hurl."

"Whatever."

The sound of the car door opening jarred the cousins from their bickering and they turned to see Kuki Sanban slide into the backseat, her Rainbow Monkey keychain jingling as she tossed her lilac backpack onto the car's floor. Before pleasantries could be exchanged Cheryl's phone rang and she answered with a flip of her hair.

" _Hello?_ Oh my god, I know right?" Nigel shook his head lightly at his cousin's obliviousness and turned towards the backseat.

"Good Morning Kuki."

"Hey Nigel, what's up?"

Kuki's eyes briefly lit up and an odd feeling of nostalgia flashed through his mind. The early years of his childhood had gradually become a blur of archived photographs and fuzzy memories, but something inside of him tugged every time he spoke to the petite Asian girl. Despite his parent's claims that they had been childhood friends, _best friends_ even, his first recollection of Kuki Sanban came when he was 14 years old in the back of Mr. Trent's art class.

The first half of the year passed without incidence, he too busy trying (and failing) to draw a decent landscape and Kuki excelling with vibrant streaks of color. It wasn't until seat reassignments pushed them together as "desk buddies" that they met. Not to say he didn't know Kuki before that—everyone knew the giddy, quirky girl that skipped through the hallways and drew longing stares with each giggle that escaped her lips. He remembers the moment her thin fingers slowly ran along the black contours of his crudely done charcoal drawing, her baby pink nail polish gleaming in the florescent lights.

" _You have to smudge it, silly. Adds depth to the picture and makes it look super cute."_

They spent the rest of the year snickering behind easels and discreetly flinging art supplies across the room. That was three years ago though, and the Kuki that sat behind him now in the back of Cheryl's car was much different than the Kuki he shared paint palettes with. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but the light that shone around her like a halo now felt dim. The only time they spoke was during these small, almost fleeting moments and brisk acknowledgments in the bustling hallways between classes.

"Besides being tardy for the third time in two weeks? Nothing." Nigel watched Kuki smile at him through the rearview mirror, her glossed lips turning upwards ever so slightly and suddenly it clicked.

Her smile wasn't as bright.

"That's it? Mushi's made me late, like, five times this year already. She can be such a brat sometimes."

"Hmm, that sounds awfully familiar," Nigel shifted his eyes to the driver's seat and without missing a beat the redhead flipped him off. "You know, the Fall Festival's coming up again and we need class volunteers to help decorate. Do you want to join?"

She spared a look at Cheryl who was beginning to wrap up her phone call and Nigel noticed an unfamiliar look flicker across Kuki's face. "I don't know, I'm pretty busy with cheer and stuff. Maybe." He nodded, knowing that was the closest thing to a yes he'd get with Cheryl in the car.

"See Buzz? We made it here with time to spare." Cheryl announced, turning into the upperclassmen parking lot.

"Barely."

She flipped him the bird again and slid into a parking space.

McClintock High Parking Lot

Wednesday, September 28th

7:50AM

"You, mate, are a bloody liar."

Patton's large hand reached out and took a swat at the Australian sitting in the passenger seat next to him, missing the mop of golden blonde hair by mere centimeters. The two were currently parked in the high school parking lot awaiting for the first bell to pull them from the comfort of Patton's forest green car and into another long school day. Despite Cleveland turning colder with each passing day, the surprising warm weather was reminiscent of summer and the two teens let the cool AC flutter the tips of their shaggy hair.

"It's more than you've done," the burly teen yawned, bending his strong arms behind his head and reclining back with a satisfied grin. Patton couldn't smother the proud feeling that swelled in his chest as he flexed slightly. While his friends spent their summer breaks updating their Snapchat stories with wild keggers and Instagramming sunny vacation photos, Patton was hard at work securing his spot as McClintock's newest golden boy. With the graduation of past high school legends like quarterback Chad Dickson and most recently track star Maurice Williams, the spot had been his for the taking and Patton's never been one to run from a challenge.

At the encouragement of his coaches and the insistence of his father, Patton had tried out for an elite intensive hockey program that cultivated the top players in the state and trained them as a summer tournament team. If this summer had been the record high scorcher the local weatherman claimed it was, Patton couldn't tell as all his time was spent inside freezing ice rinks and weight rooms. It had been tough—the constantly sore muscles, aching joints, and perpetual state of breathlessness—but it had been worth it. He was stronger, faster, better, and come winter he was primed to become the coveted hockey team varsity captain.

Patton turned his head and watched Wally's face contort into a resistant frown, the tips of his ears turning red.

"I've done things," his voice a strained mumble. "I've gotten to third base."

"The only time you ever reach third base is during baseball season, and pass me my food."

Begrudgingly Wally reached into the crumpled McDonalds bag between his legs and pulled out two wrapped sandwiches, chucking a McMuffin at his friend. Ever since Patton's parents had gifted him with his father's old 1995 Jeep Wrangler, the two boys were determined to take every opportunity of possible freedom available—even if the extent of that was driving themselves to school and grabbing McDonald's on the go. Neither boy was keen on being overly dependent and relished exercising the small acts of teenage independence. The two athletes had a host of other similar qualities, but competitiveness overtook all others. Competition could be made anywhere, eating the most pizza slices, running the fastest mile during gym, or as the conversation leaned this morning, their respective luck with girls.

"Oi, don't get cocky Pat. She'll probably dump ya again before you get another chance."

Patton swatted at Wally again, this time savoring the empty thud Wally's head made when his palm collided with the back of it. True, Cheryl and his relationship was fickle at best and half the time he wasn't sure whether they were on or off, but even if he hadn't technically hit a "homerun" with Cheryl he'd fumbled up enough experience to have bragging rights over Wally which for now was good enough. Besides, he was a hot blooded, sixteen year old boy who was (sometimes) dating arguably the prettiest girl at school. Who is he to say no whenever she texted she missed him and wanted company?

He took of final bite of his McMuffin, chasing it down with a swig of orange juice and began fumbling with the radio.

"A few guys are going to Frank's to grab some burgers after school. You in?" His best friend's silence made Patton stop turning the dial and glance towards the passenger seat questioningly. Wally's green eyes were focused straight ahead of him and the McGriddle he'd been devouring now a squished causality in his clenched fist. Patton followed his gaze to across the lot where a familiar Convertible was turning into a parking space.

Looking back at Wally he saw a strange, almost remorseful look flash across the blonde's face and was immediately interested. While aggression was Wally's default setting, there were few things that made the temperamental Australian break his tough character. The first being his younger brother Joey who idolized and marveled at Wally with childlike amazement. The second, although he'd deny it, was his close-almost-tied-at-the-hip friend Kuki Sanban. He may have been able to fool the other guys with his denial and claims of sibling affection, but Patton had his own suspicions. For all the reckless abandonment in Wally's bravado his armor noticeably chipped every time she smiled at him.

They watched the passengers exit the car and begin walking towards the school entrance, the redhead mid argument with her vice president cousin and her ebony haired friend calmly walking beside them completely unbothered by the stares they received. Before Patton got the chance to ask the shrill bell rung and snapped Wally from his trance. He looked at his ruined McGriddle with contempt and quickly tossed it out the window.

"Naw, I got a few things to take care of" he answered distractedly, already slamming Patton's car door and following their classmates into the imposing building.

4th Period

Wednesday, September 28th

11: 02AM

Wally leaned himself against a row of lockers and folded his arms across his chest in a stance of cool defiance. Like an animal on the hunt he meticulously watched the sea of teens ebb and flow as they all fought through the crowd to reach their next class. His eyes scanned the chaotic hallway around him looking for a familiar flash of jade green, hoping she'd taken her usual route to her 4th period class and hadn't anticipated his flimsy plan. He needed to talk to her, he needed to fix this, and in an admission he's only been recently brave enough to say in the safety of his mind, he just needed her.

But what would he say when he found her?

His heart thumped when he finally spotted the girl with long, tumbling black hair that made him shiver every time it grazed his skin and periwinkle eyes that made his chest tighten. Like a moth to a flame he ignored the warning signs blaring in his mind and willingly let himself be pulled into her electric aura just like he always did. She spotted him before he could reach her and with a swiftness he didn't know she possessed turned to walk away, effectively icing him out.

"Kuki wait!" He attempted to ignore the sting of her apparent rejection and caught her wrist before she could disappear into the hurried masses. What he lacked in height he made up for in muscle and the delicate girl was no match for his brute strength. He pulled her back until they stood mere inches apart, and involuntarily he felt his cheeks burn when his calloused skin touched hers. He could feel her pulse quicken under the light force of his finger tips and he wished he could make her heart beat like that without the disappointed look on her face.

"Wally!"

"Please talk to me, Kooks." Wally could hear the slight pleading tone in his voice and knew if anyone heard the big bad Wallabee Beetles practically whining he'd never live it down. One look at the wide eyed girl in front of him and he couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment.

"Wally I can't—"

"Kooks, please—"

" _Don't call me that anymore_ ," she suddenly hissed, snatching her wrist back. Wally felt like the wind got knocked out of him.

"I'm sorry—"

"Mr. Beetles! Do you and Ms. Sanban care to have this discussion later? Final bell has already rung and unless you'd like a detention I suggest you come to find your seats."

True enough the hallways were now empty and the only people left were Wally, Kuki, and now the waiting Ms. Yates. Before he could fix his mouth to hurl an obscenity Kuki shot him a pointed look that stopped him cold and turned on her heel.

"We're sorry Ms. Yates, it won't happen again." Wally felt familiar rage begin to bubble in him, but swallowed it back as he moodily shuffled after Kuki into their shared 4th period class: home economics. Wally could feel the curious stares of his almost all female classmates and plopped into his front row seat next to Kuki with a grimace. The home economics classroom was equipped with five school regulated stoves placed along the back walls of the room and a myriad of sharp utensils for cooking lessons. The school faculty and Ms. Yates unanimously decided that given the boy's reputation he shouldn't sit anywhere near the appliances without supervision.

Wally groaned, sinking into his chair and leaning his head back onto the desk behind him. Of all the dumb things he's done in his short sixteen years (he could put MTV's _Jackass_ to shame) letting Kuki convince him to take home economics as an elective class was at least top five. He should've taken weight training with Patton or at least taken study hall so he could nap for fifty five minutes every day. Instead he'd let her sweet talk him like always, her sugary voice consuming him in the best way possible.

" _It'll be an easy A,"_ she said, " _We'll get to eat two lunches when we bake things in class,"_ she said. It's been two weeks and the only food he's seen are the pictures on the nutrition posters pinned on the wall. He'd taken this class to hang out with her and now she wouldn't even spare him a real conversation. Not that he expected her to after the debacle back in July, but he'd hope she would've forgave him by now and they could go back to being friends at least. Wally knows he screwed up royally and judging by the way she only acknowledged him when their friends were around, she did too.

When the bell rang fifty slow minutes later Wally jumped out of his seat and slung his untouched backpack over his shoulder. He made a move to where Kuki had been, but she must have seen it coming since she was already dashing into the hallway.

He watched Kuki slip away and the gutted feeling that festered every time she looked indifferently at him shamefully deepened.

Front Office/Guidance Counselor

Wednesday, September 28th

2:30PM

"I don't think I understand."

"Don't get me wrong, Hoagie. Your unweighted GPA is excellent and you test within the 96th percentile in both the math and science departments. I just think you could use a bit more…fluff."

Hoagie stared in honest bewilderment at his guidance counselor while she looked back at him with a practiced reassuring smile.

"Fluff?"

The many bracelets she wore clanged as she pulled open one of her desk drawers and began sifting through the very neatly stored color coded folders. Sofia— _don't call me Ms. Carson because I'm "approachable"—_ was a portly woman in her mid-40s that still believed herself to be completely in tune with the "modern millennial teenager." The jury was still out on whether or not using the phrase "turnt up" correct only half the time or having a rudimentary understanding of memes actually certified her as the youth guru she boasted herself as.

"Exactly, just an extra _umph_ to show you're a well-rounded candidate."

Ms. Carson let out satisfied breath as she found the file she was searching for and placed a laminated brochure in front of him, urging him to flip through it. The glossy pages glared under the fluorescent office lights, but even then Hoagie couldn't take his eyes off the colorful graphs, enticing photographs of students happily engrossed among beakers and test tubes, and bold proclamations that being there was "the best decision I've ever made." There on the cover, typed in large white Cambria font, was the source of Hoagie's long held dreams and aspirations.

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Located four hours away by plane, ten by car, fifteen by bus, and succinctly, five states east was Hoagie's dream university complete with state of the art student resources tailored specifically for a kid like him. Attending MIT had been in Hoagie's sights ever since he'd learned such an inspiring academic haven existed for STEM majors. It wasn't until he flipped the last page that he realized Ms. Carson had been talking to him the whole time.

"And although you won't be applying for another year I know how important admission into this school is to you, so I just want to ensure you're making choices that will ensure your future will be _litty._ "

If Hoagie wasn't so distracted by the prospect of possibly qualifying for such a prestigious school he might've thrown his hands up in exasperation. Adults, what're you gonna do?

"Um, Ms. Carson—"

"I've told you, Hoagie, call me Sofia. Ms. Carson was my mother's name."

Hoagie blinked.

"…right, well, exactly what kind of 'fluff' do you mean? I'm already co-captain with Gabe for the Quiz Bowl team and I've even been thinking about starting an independent research project."

"I know and that's great! But I was thinking something a bit more—how do I put this? Community based." Hoagie's face twisted in confusion again.

"Community based," Hoagie repeated, slowly pronouncing each syllable as if it were a foreign sound. "What exactly is that?"

"I'm so glad you asked! Here you go, I've spoken to a few of your teachers and they think you'd be a perfect fit for the program."

Ms. Carson seamlessly placed another form in front of him, and as Hoagie skimmed the page he could feel her eyes bore into him expectedly. "Will you do it?"

Hoagie considered it for a moment. Could he? Honestly, it's not like he was so pressed for time that he couldn't add another task into his fairly free schedule and if staying late on campus three days a week was the deciding factor between MIT and a state college then he'd do it no question.

"Perfect!" Ms. Carson exclaimed, clapping her hands in victory. "I figured you'd say yes so I already set everything up. Just go pick up your assignment sheet and info from the front desk and good luck! You start Monday at 3:15."

Hoagie gave an appreciative nod and sauntered out of her office in search of the front desk receptionist, but not before he slipped the MIT brochure into his backpack. When he strolled up to the large wooden counter he had to remind himself not to physically roll his eyes and tried his best to not sound utterly pained with his greeting.

"Hi Lizzie."

Lizzie Devine looked up from where she was furiously typing on the large school funded computer monitor and glanced at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"Hoagie." This time he did roll his eyes.

"Nice to see you too, Lizzie. Can you give me my group assignment and schedule?" Hoagie asked, sliding the paper Ms. Carson had given him across the table to her.

Lizzie simply stared from him to the paper, twirling the ends of her dull brown hair around her finger and seemingly waiting for him to continue. Hoagie let out a frustrated sigh.

"Can you give me my group assignment and schedule _please_?" She dramatically huffed and with exaggerated effort lifted herself out of the plush office chair to search for his things. He watched the girl as she maneuvered around the room and shuddered. He'd known Lizzie since their Gallagher Elementary days, before she essentially glowed up after puberty and was just the round tag along girl who always tried to include herself in his friend's games. At the time he remembers him and his friends being annoyed by her overbearing presence, but trying to recall exactly who his friends had been always seemed just out of reach. Now at sixteen Lizzie had gone from being excluded from other kid's fun and games to making them herself as one of McClintock's biggest gossips. Hoagie had slight suspicion that fact alone was the reason she opted out of regular elective classes and chose to be a student assistant in the front office.

She finally came back holding a manila folder by the tips of her fingers and looked prepared to fling the thing at Hoagie, but as he reached for it she held it back with a taunting voice.

"What exactly do you need this stuff for anyway?"

Was she always this difficult? If so Hoagie understood why her boyfriend Nigel Uno seemed to ignore the girl half the time.

"Well if you must know Lizzie, I'm now a part of the student academic outreach program." She looked utterly perplexed for a moment before her face fell with realization.

Lizzie snickered, "So you're a tutor?"

"Yep."

She handed him the manila folder as she plopped back in her chair, a smirk etched on her pale face.

"Hopefully they only take your advice for homework. Those goggles should've been left back at Gallagher." Hoagie tuned her out as he unclasped the silver clips and spread the papers inside across the counter as he read about his "student."

 _Unweighted GPA: 2.1_

 _Class Rank: 355/450 (lower 78_ _th_ _percentile)_

 _Points of Needed Improvement: Biology 1, Algebra 2, English 2_

 _Meeting Times: Monday, Wednesday, Friday from 3:15 to 4:15 in Library_

"So who'd ya get?" Lizzie leaned forward with a curious glint in her eye.

He searched the pages for a name, but when he found it he'd do anything to un-see it. His long fingers began to tremble and his still bruised eye began to sting.

Hoagie had always considered himself a pretty funny guy, but as it turned out fate had its own sense of humor and pairing him with the terrifying Wallabee Beetles was some sort of sick cosmic joke.

The Lincoln Home

Wednesday, September 28th

6:38PM

"Ma chère, no hats at the table please."

Sweeping the loose strands of her _Poetic Justice_ braids from under her well-worn baseball cap, Abby slipped off the offending piece of clothing and placed it atop of her lap. The soft clinking of silverware and polite conversation filled the air around her, but Abby's never heard such a deafening silence as she picked at pieces of her mother's confit de canard. The traditional French meal was a special dish her mother only cooked on rare occasions and usually had Abby licking her lips in anticipation, but tonight each bite left a bitter taste in her mouth as she watched the scene play in front of her.

Tonight's dinner had been moved from its usual place at the kitchen table to the dining room, and the usually bare dining room table had been graced with their good holiday table cloth that was only brought out for grand occasions like Thanksgiving or Christmas. Small candles adorned the minimal spaces between full dinner plates and glasses, giving the room the aura of an intimate candlelit setting. It was a Hallmark moment, her father sitting at the head of the table in his usual colorful sweater vest and her mother conversing excitedly, her accent becoming more distinguishable with each surge of emotion. Her older sister Cree sat across the table from her holding court as she detailed her new life as a college sophomore. Abby couldn't stop her eyes from crinkling in agitation at the sight of her older sister calmly cutting into the pieces of her baked duck as if she hadn't orchestrated tonight knowing Abby's stomach would be in knots.

At least that's how it felt watching Cree laugh at one of her father's jokes and lace her fingers through a much larger hand next to her. While the two girls had grown out of throwing hostile punches and rough shoves, their relationship now worked in a state of icy passive aggressive acts that went completely undetected by the unsuspecting average person.

But Abby knew better, and she knew Cree, and if she knew anything at all about her sister it was that she did nothing on accident.

She watched her parents fuss over their eldest daughter, but Abby could excuse her parents over excitement for the next few hours. Her sister was home for a brief and rare visit from university where she was on a pre-med track much to the delight of their father. Currently they were discussing Cree's courses and future plans.

"Honestly, organic chemistry has to be the hardest class in the major. Most kids barely scrap by with a C."

"Well most kids aren't my daughter, you know, with the smarts and the work ethic, and the—oh you know what I'm saying."

"Thanks dad. I just need to maintain a B and at the end of the semester I should be able to make Dean's List."

"Have you begun looking for internships, ma chère?" Ms. Lincoln asked as she sipped her wine.

"A few, I was hoping to apply to the hospital close to campus or maybe apply for one at dad's hospital. I don't know though, we were kind hoping to do it together, right babe?"

"Can you pass the salt, Abby?" All at once she could feel the other Lincoln's eyes sear into her skin, but it was the boy with soft almond colored orbs across from her that made her face burn with an unwarranted blush. Without answering she gently picked up the shaker and reached across the table, ignoring the way her heart thudded when their fingers touched during the pass off.

Maurice Williams gave her a soft smile of thanks and then seamlessly resumed talking to her family, giving Cree a reassuring smile before preceding to woo the elder Lincolns. When he arrived on their doorstep at 6 O'clock sharp dressed in a fitted Ralph Lauren Polo, crisp khaki pants, and a friendly glint in his eyes he came baring gifts: beautiful long stemmed roses for Cree accompanied with a kiss to the cheek and a pack of Abby's favorite licorice with a ruffle of her cap. The candy felt heavy in her pocket, and she felt equal parts flattered that he'd remembered her favorite sweet and childish as she watched her sister adoringly sniff her flowers before putting them in a vase.

She discreetly took him in as she cut into her food. Maurice was no longer the skinny boy who had been the third musketeer to the Lincoln sister's childhood adventures, no longer the teenager who acknowledged her in the school hallways even when her sister wouldn't, and no longer the friend three streets over whose easy smile made Abby's cool demeanor heat ten times over. He'd grown taller since going to college this summer, now officially a head taller than Abby (a fact that she noted when he pulled his "favorite little sister" into a hug). He was shedding away the remaining traces of baby fat to form a sculpted face and small hints of stubble lined the sharp contours of his jawline that only served as a reminder that he was no longer the high school senior who sometimes gave her rides home, but a beginnings of a man.

Still feeling hungry despite her jittering stomach she used her fork to reach towards the pan placed in the middle of the table, piercing the final slice of her mother's meal and prepared to bring it to her own plate. Just as she was about to pick it up another fork speared down and halted Abby.

"Do you mind if I take the last piece, lil sis?"

Abby's dark eyes locked with Cree's and the two girls paused for a brief second, both aware of the underlined suggestion while the others were none the wiser. It was a challenge, a small test to see how Abby's nerves held up a few months after _their_ Maurice turned into _her_ Maurice. Abby's pride wouldn't let her back down from a challenge, especially not from Cree. She set her lips in a smile.

"I'm still pretty hunger, big sis."

Abby gave the meat a small tug her direction which Cree returned with a stern tug of her own.

"Here, why don't you two share," Maurice voiced, already reaching between the sisters and cutting the confit de canard in two equal pieces.

"Well isn't that nice Maurice! What with the sharing and the caring and oh! You know how my daughters just love to share."

Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln looked impressed as they praised the young man, but his girlfriend's eyes never left Abby's. She could see the older girl's head ticking as she analyzed the youngest Lincoln, but instead of giving Cree what she wanted and breaking she simply began cutting into her half of the meat.

"We sure do, daddy."

After dinner they all gathered in the family room to watch TV while their stomachs settled. Her father was reclining in his leather chair as he talks sports with Maurice and her mother was practically buzzing while she whispered with Cree about the new man in her life. Abby sat crisscross applesauce on the carpet chewing the bittersweet black licorice Maurice had given her. She ignored the two lovebirds lounging behind her on the sofa, trying to drown out the way their voices melded so well together even when they weren't aimed at each other.

The local news was showing on the large TV screen and Abby was only partially listening until she heard a familiar name spill from the pink lips of the nightly news anchor, her attention quickly focused on the story unfolding.

" _In recent developments Hal Fulbright, commonly known as "Mr. Boss" among his close associates was brought before a federal judge early this afternoon for his arraignment where he pleaded not guilty to the crimes of fraud and embezzlement. Earlier this summer financial advisors from The North United Group, the fortune 500 financial firm Hal Fulbright worked at as regional CEO, came forward with accusations that several managing employees might be involved in what they described as 'illegal activities' and a 'misuse of company funds.' Under further investigation many of these allegations proved to be—"_

"It's a shame, no? I cannot imagine what the families involved must be going through." Abby's sympathetic mother's voice rang out behind her and without turning around gave a small nod.

" _As seen in the media obtained video above his wife appeared in court beside Hal in a show of support, but the rest of his family including his children were not in attendance."_

"A shame? He's a criminal, what with the stealing and lying and oh— just criminal," Cree voiced her agreement with their father.

"What do you think Abby?" She could feel Maurice's presence prickle her skin and wanted to turn around to look at him one more time unabashedly, but she just shrugged with a stoic look etched onto her face.

" _The court date has been set for later this year in December."_

XXX

A/N: First, a huge thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter of Fragile! I honestly didn't think anyone would read it, but I'm glad people have.

Also when I was looking over the first chapter I realized that I had uploaded an earlier draft where I wrote Patton playing football instead of hockey, so I made the quick fix. Hopefully no one's upset by this, but since Patton's character spends so much time in the Arctic Base as a kid I always imagined he'd play a sport a bit more "cold blooded".

Xoxo!


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